


Over the wire

by wordswehavesaid



Series: Tumblr prompts [12]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: M/M, Phone Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-23
Updated: 2015-11-23
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:02:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordswehavesaid/pseuds/wordswehavesaid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Never let it be said that long-distance can stop a pair of heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Over the wire

Barry drops onto the bed with a sigh, shifting to get comfortable as he fishes out his phone. It’s weird how his old bed in Joe’s house has grown unfamiliar to him all over again after only moving back in less than a year ago. But that’s to be expected when he’s spending most nights in someone else’s.

It’s said someone else that he’s calling, and a smile spreads over his face unbidden when it’s answered. “Barry?”

“Hey Oliver. Sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to let you know I can’t make it tonight.”

“Everything ok?” There’s already a tense edge to the other man’s voice and he can’t help rolling his eyes even if it’s in fondness.

“Yeah, yeah. I just sort of broke my leg. It’s totally fine and we caught the guy. Caitlin was just very specific that I give the running a rest for tonight,” he explains. His personal physician had even taken it upon herself to give him a lift home tonight. “So a long distance trip isn’t really an option.”

Oliver gives a disappointed hum of acknowledgement. “That’s too bad. I would’ve liked taking care of you for a night.”

Though he knows Oliver can’t see it, he still ducks his head with a blush. “There’s not much to take care of. I heal fast, remember?” He doesn’t think either of them could forget that, really. “I mean, that’s not to say I would’ve have said no.”

The other man chuckles at that, which sends pleasant tingles down Barry’s spine as he relaxes back into the pillows. “You don’t even know what you’d be saying yes to.”

“Oh, so you have plans?” He can’t help teasing.

“Of what I’d do to you if you were here?” Oliver’s tone isn’t joking; it’s low and husky and absolutely serious as it raises goosebumps on Barry’s skin. “Yeah.”

He swallows. Licks his lips. “What, uh, what exactly would you do to me?”

There’s a beat of silence that feels like an eternity - did he mess up? are they not doing this? - before Oliver asks, “Where are you?”

“In my bed, at home,” he supplies.

“Good. Close your eyes. Pretend you’re in mine.”

Oh God, they’re really doing this.

He follows the instruction, and in the darkness he becomes hyper-aware of things like his breathing picking up, the rising flush to his skin, the way his cock is already twitching in interest and anticipation. “Wh-where are you?”

“Right there with you,” says Oliver’s voice in his ear. Barry clutches the phone tighter and presses his lips together to stifle some soft sound. He thinks the older man must hear something, though, because he continues, “You’re beautiful. Gorgeous. You already want me and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Barry just barely manages to stop himself before he blurts something embarrassing like how he always wants Oliver. There’s no stopping the probably impatient-sounding, “But you’re gonna touch me?”

“Yeah.” Barry’s hand unclenches from the sheets and immediately goes to his waistband– “But I’d start slow. Slip a hand under your shirt and trail my fingers over everything.”

Barry groans but complies with the fantasy, his skin hot to the touch and trembling under his own ministrations. He never bothers to give himself this much stimulation when he’s, well, taking care of himself - and now with his hyper-sensitivity he really doesn’t have to - always finding it a bit awkward. But now, imagining his lovers hands on him mapping out the planes of his torso and sending shivers up and down his spine in reaction to those calluses dragging over soft skin, it’s doing things to him. “Ol- Oliver,” he gasps into the phone.

“Play with your nipples, Barry,” the man encourages. “That always drives you wild.”

He brushes a tentative thumb over one of the hardened nubs and a spike of pleasure goes through him. With a moan, he arches up into air and does it again. “You’re teasing me,” he still manages to accuse. “I’d at least have your shirt off by now.”

“Yeah, you would,” Oliver agrees and he hears the sound of rustling fabric. It hits Barry then that he has just as much control over this narrative.

“You really are driving me crazy,” he tells him, letting another breathy moan slip out as he moves to his other nipple. “I’m so hard. I’m just thrusting up into you, trying to find some friction. Are you gonna help me out or do I just have to grind against you all night?”

Oliver groans. “You’re supposed to be resting. I’m pushing those hips of yours down into the mattress.” Barry whimpers, but stills the movement of his lower half. He thinks he really can feel the pressure of a bruising grip. “But I should’ve known you can’t handle too slow. If I think you can behave I’ll start palming you. Through your clothes.”

“ _Ohh_  yes, Oliver!” He’s not sure if he’s thanking or promising or both, but his hand rests over the bulge on his sweatpants and squeezes. “Oh yes!” He doesn’t bother with a build up, just starts roughly palming his erection while imagining another’s hand. Bigger, thicker, finally giving him what he desperately needs.

“You like that?” Oliver asks, sounding almost breathless.

“ _Mmm_  yeah. Not gonna last long. I’m taking your clothes off,” Barry insists, because even if this is supposed to be about Oliver taking care of him he can’t just _not_  return the favor. It feels too good.

“Only if I’m touching you.” 

They both hiss in reaction to the cool air against by now beyond sensitive parts but then he hears another low groan from Oliver’s end just as his hand closes around his own shaft and starts pumping.

It’s all harsh, panted breaths and moans interspersed with frantic suggestions and praises.

“Just twist your hand, Barry, like that, a little rough, you love that–”

“Oliver -  _ngh_! - flick your thumb over the slit a couple times but just picture my tongue, ok?”

“Oh  _God_ , Barry!”

He can feel his pleasure coiling tight and hot in his gut and he knows, “Oliver I- I’m so close, so close–”

“Me too. So cum for me, Barry. Loud as you can.”

He thinks he  _screams_  Oliver’s name as he climaxes, spilling into his hand, and shudders through the aftershocks when he hears the groan of his own name from his lover signifying his own release. He lays there for several long moments after, taking in gulps of air and slowing coming down from that incredible high.

“W-wow. That was really…”

“Yeah,” Oliver agrees. He hears some shifting noises in the background which reminds him to reach for the tissue box on his own bedside table. “I’d be doing this for you too,” the older man notes wistfully.

“Hey, you took care of me plenty tonight,” Barry assures him, wiping away the mess before pulling his clothes back on. In the post-orgasmic haze he slips under his covers as well, turning onto his side and hugging the pillow to him. If he’s pretending it’s something else now, too, well that’s for him to know. “Talk to me till I fall asleep?”

There’s a chuckle, warm and low, in his ear. He smiles and hugs his pillow tighter. “Sure.”


End file.
